


You Decide to Spend the Rest of Your Life With Someone

by mynameisnotmac



Category: Letterkenny (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Soft Pining, lets be real everything I write is a getting together, soft hicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:55:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21719719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnotmac/pseuds/mynameisnotmac
Summary: And then you do it.Set right after the end of season 7 so spoilers!
Relationships: Daryl/Wayne (Letterkenny)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 273





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It’s me, back at it again with the soft hicks! This one’s been bouncing around my brain since the finale so here y’all go. Hope you enjoy!

He finds him sitting on the steps of the bar, glarin’ at the gas bar across the street. He ain’t cryin’, or makin’ any fuss, just sittin’ and starin’.

“Wayne.”

“Darry.”

Darry plops himself down next to his best friend, trying not to squirm at how the cold wet from the pavement seeps into his jeans. “How’re ya now?” 

Wayne don’t look at him, “Look I know you're destined for constant confusion, but take a fuckin stab at ‘er there Dar.” instead of the usual response.

“Right, sorry, stupid question.”

The cold steps ain’t the only uncomfortable part of this. They sit in silence for about three minutes too long, Darry sneakin’ glances ‘n trying to think of something to say before Wayne has just about enough of it. “I don’t know those are sad eyes ‘r big eyes ‘r crazy eyes yer givin’ me, but whatever they are, better fuckin’ stop ‘fore I give ya a set of black eyes.”

Darry looks down at the pavement. “Sorry,”

“Christ Darry stop apologizin’.” Wayne raises an eyebrow just enough to cut off the reflex sorry on the tip of Darry’s tongue. “S’not you who stepped out on me.” He fishes a dented pack of Number Sevens out of his pocket and pulls out two, handing one to Darry.

“That was a shitty thing for her to do,” Darry says, taking the offered cigarette.

The lighter in Wayne's hand clicks uselessly. “Fuck, don’t have to tell me twice.” He continues to flick the bic to no avail. On the fifth try, he flings it into the side bush, growling around his dart. “Oh fer fuck’s sake.”

“Hey! Easy there Big Shoots, no need for all that.” Darry pulls his own lighter out, cupping his hand around it as it sparks to life. He waits for Wayne to lean in and get his cigarette started before lighting his own. They smoke quietly for a moment, the tension in Wayne’s shoulders building with the cloud around them.

Wayne finally spares him a glance. “Sorry for the theatrics.”

Darry shrugs, giving a hint of an easy smile. “I won’t hold it against ya good buddy.” 

Wayne resumes his staring contest with the price per litre sign. “It’s just - well here’s the scoop - and the thing is now - fuck,” The tension drains and it’s like someone cut the strings on one of them marionette dolls; Wayne’s head drops to his chest, hands hanging limply over his knees. “The thing is, it was supposed t’mean somethin’.” 

Wayne’s voice rarely, if ever, sounds so small and its pullin’ all kinds of tomfuckery on Darry’s heartstrings. “Aw Wayne.” He outs his dart and slings an arm around his friend.

“It was fuckin’ marriage. We both sat down, we decided we were gonna spend the rest of our lives together.”

“That’s typically what marriage means there buddy.”

Darry can hear Wayne’s jaw click as he grinds his teeth. “She didn’t say fuck all ‘bout addin’ the other guy to the deal.”

“Yeah, she delt you a nineteen hand there, that’s for sure.”

“Why do girls keep steppin’ out on me? Marie-Fred, Angie,” He scuffs his toe against the concrete. “Am I doin’ somethin’ wrong here?”

The admission shocks Darry. It might be the first time he’s ever heard Wayne doubt himself. Even after Angie, the tune was ‘get back on the horse’ ‘n ‘Wayne’s lookin’ for love.’ He grips Wayne’s shoulder. “Hard no,” he says, giving it a shake. “Come on Wayne, yer the best of ‘em. Those girls don’t know a good thing when they got it by the short hairs.” The last bit gets Wayne almost halfway to a laugh. Darry gives the shoulder in his grasp a pat, “Not for nothin’ here bud, but you still got me at least.”

A look flickers across his face that even Darry, with all his years of Wayne decipherin’, can’t puzzle out. “Not for nothin’ at all good buddy.” The words start a warm glow in Darry’s rib cage, that little campfire that only Wayne can spark to life. Wayne sighs, lifting his head to the clouds again finally. “Alright,” he says, dropping the butt of his dart and crushing it beneath his boot. “Enough of all this ten-ply shit.” But he lets Darry keep his arm ‘round his back.

The silence that follows is more comfortable this time, like the easy quiet they usually share during chorin’, only closer. Darry feels a light mist on his face as he realizes it began to snow, or a poor slushy excuse for it. He gives Wayne a nudge. “Wanna grab a beer?”

Wayne shakes his head. “I think I wanna go home.”

“Good enough.” Darry gets to his feet. “Should probably go save Squirley Dan from those degens anyway.”

“I still can’t believe you brought those half-wits. I mean Christ Dar, The Ginger ‘n Boots? Really?”

Darry shrugs offering his hand down to Wayne “Was all I could find on short notice! My best fighter left me in the lurch if you recall.” 

“Yeah well, I was hammered and you were bein’ a shitass,” Wayne grabs his hand and pulls himself to his feet. “Won’t happen again bud, my hand t’God.”

Darry’s grin is the brightest thing outside on that gray day. “Good stuff good buddy.” He’s starting up the steps when the door opens. The smile is gone so fast it’s like someone shut off the sun.

“Daryl.”

“Marie-Fred.”

The stand off’s colder than Nunavut in January. “Can I have a word with him?” She asks, finally breaking the trance. Wayne’s standin’ behind him with a look that Darry knows is carefully blank. Marie-Fred is tappin’ her foot but Darry don’t even think about goin’ until he gets the slight tilt of Wayne’s head towards the door. 

He brushes past her and turns around in the doorway to see her attempt to cozy up next to Wayne. For all her efforts, it’s about as effective as cuddlin’ a statue.

That’s the last time he sees Marie-Fred. By the time he and Dan come out, Wayne’s got a ring in his pocket and a pout on his lip.


	2. Chapter 2

That year winter buries their little town in banks that stand at their shoulders, and Darry watches as Wayne tries to bury what happened with it. They drink beer, do chores, and neither one mentions Marie-Fred. Katy asks once, about three weeks after the incident, but Wayne abruptly tells her to mind her business and leaves the table with dinner still on it. No one tries again for awhile after all that. If Katy can’t wrestle it out of him, almost no sense in tryin’ there.

Darry instead tries the approach of trying to annoy him into gettin’ into it. It ain’t what he originally planned, but eventually he figures that by stickin’ to Wayne like a fly on cowhide, he’ll get Wayne to open up one way ‘r another, even if that way involves gettin’ a few screws knocked lose. Hell, at this point he’ll try anything if it means gettin’ his best friend back from the robot that’s takin’ his place at the dinner table and makin’ them do an unnecessary amount of chorin’.

Wayne’s got Gus in a headlock on the couch when Darry walks into the livin’ room, bottle of Gus’nBru in hand. “Oh fuck, it’s you again.”

Darry settles himself in on the chesterfield. “I do live here ya know.” He cracks the seal on the whiskey “Have a drink?”

Releasing Gus, Wayne takes the bottle and has a swig, pauses, then takes another. “I’m gonna fuckin’ need a few of these t’be able to put up with you followin’ me around.” He passes the bottle back “I have two dogs Dar, I don’t need another one.”

“Well what do you need then?” 

Wayne gives him an unimpressed side eye. “Showed your cards a little early there bud. M’not drunk enough yet for that conversation.” The bottle is immediately back in Wayne’s hand. He gives a short humourless laugh. “I’m not dancin’ this dance tonight.”

Darry kicks his feet up on the coffee table “Well you’re just gonna have to put up with me until you do then.” He plays with his sock, trying to wiggle the hole between his toes. “Be just like the time in fourth grade when you was mad at me fer telling Jenny Harder you were sweet on her and I didn’t stop followin’ you around askin’ you t’say somethin’ until ya socked me.”

“You sayin’ you want me to punch you?”

“If that’s what you gotta do.”

He’s tense as Wayne moves to set the bottle next to his feet on the table. Darry’s a man of his word, and if Wayne needs to hit something, so be it, but that don’t mean he’s gotta look forward to it. 

But Wayne just rests his elbows on his knees and looks back him “I don’t wanna punch you Darry.” He sighs. “I want…”

Darry perks up “You want what?” Crickets chirp from the corner. “Come on, better lookin’ at it then for it.” He kicks his friend gently “Wayne,”

Wayne keeps his eyes trained on the wood paneling as he shoves Darry’s foot off his knee. “I want to know why she did it.” 

“Aw Wayne.”

He shakes his head “See? You can’t help me with that, it almost ain’t worth thinkin’ about.”

“You’ll make yerself dizzy chasin’ that tail.”

Wayne glares at the wall, “Fuck that’s what I keep tellin’ myself, I keep sayin’ ‘Wayne you’ll make yerself dizzy if you don’t cut that shit out.” His face softens that way only a select few can tell is actually soft as he glances. “I know you wanna help, and I appreciate that, a man should want to help his friends, but this is just somethin’ I gotta drink my way through ‘m pretty sure.”

Careful not to kick over the whiskey, Darry slides the bottle over with his foot towards Wayne. “Need a drinking buddy then?”

When Wayne laughs this time it’s his real one, and boy if it don’t warm Darry’s heart a little. “Jesus Mary ‘n Joseph, I really just can’t get rid of you can I?”

Darry feels a grin stretch across his own face. “I’m like that god awful wallpaper in the guest bed, it’s gonna be a real pain and take a lot’ve effort to get rid of.”

Wayne snags the bottle off the table and leans back into the couch, brushing shoulders with Darry and leaning in ever so slightly in a way that puts another log on that campfire. “Well fuck, who’s got that kind of time.” He holds out the bottle with a cocked eyebrow. “Wanna get hammered?”


	3. Chapter 3

What’s the driest season of Wayne’s is for some reason the luckiest for almost everyone else on the farm. Sweet Loverna Dyck finally traded her long skirts and prayer caps for jeans and toques and joined Squirrelly Dan in the English World, so more often than not he was off Je'schlajchts fe and being right sintlijch when he wasn’t needed on the farm. 

‘N Bonnie McMurray shocks the town by finally settling down with someone - and that someone just happens to be Katy. While she sticks around the house for the first bit out of a fierce and sympathetic loyalty, it takes about two weeks before Wayne has enough of it and tells her exactly where she can stick her ‘I’m sorry your sweetie left you and I don’t know how to help’ looks, so she don’t feel as bad about taking off for a few nights at a time. ‘Sides, Darry was always around anyhow.

Oh sure, there were a few out of towners at the bar every now and again tryin’ to get the chance to pull at Darry’s curls, he saw the way they ran with the unnecessary squeeze by, Wayne did too, nodding confirmation ‘n addin’ his two cents worth as Wingman Wayne. But everything he was interested in at the moment was right in front of him double tapping a shot glass. ‘Sides, everytime he thought about following the caller outside he thought of his buddy, sittin’ at the bar alone, and then his mind would wander back to seein’ Wayne sat on those wet stairs and good god it was enough to keep his ass planted on the stool and order them another round.

“I see what yer’ doin’ here.” Wayne says one night after a sweet brunette pauses at Darry’s elbow, asking where the bathroom is, unable to keep her hand off his forearm. 

Darry looks over at him, his features carefully innocent, waving down Gail who’s at the other end of the bar. “What I’m doin’ is havin’ a beer with my bestest pal.” 

“I don’t want to get in the way of yer extracurriculars now.”

Darry shakes his head as he finishes ordering two more Puppers. “She’s not my type.”

Wayne’s eyes narrow. “Darry.”

“Wayne?”

“Yer story ‘s got more holes in it than one of Aunt Nancy’s doilies.”

Gail sets down two beers in front of them. “He’s right there Daryl, girl’s so hot they’d put one of them tiny peppers next to her on a menu.” she groans. “I’d let her taste my spicy sauce that’s for damned sure, if you catch my meaning.”

Darry grimaces “That is unfortunately, a texas sized ten-four Gail.” He slides one of the bottles closer to Wayne, turning towards his friend. “Look, if I wanted some toe curlin’ I’d get me some toe curlin’. But what I wanna do right now, is have a drink with you, good enough?” He tilts the neck out the neck of his bottle.

Wayne looks at him curiously for a minute before clicking his own bottle agianst Darry’s with a soft clink “Good enough I suppose.”


	4. Chapter 4

Winter passes quietly into spring and the boys are tickin’ tasks off their to do lists like no ones business. They get their crops in the ground, their calves in the world, and if that weren’t enough, Katy keeps them busy buildin’ all kinds of things for her projects. This year, along with the annual fixin and improvin’ of the chicken coop, she’s requested bee boxes. So Wayne and Dar spend their evenings coming up with a way to build ‘em, make ‘em look nice. Only the best for Katy-Kat after all.

The boys have their hands so full they almost don’t notice the beginnings of summer sneak up on Letterkenny until the warmth creeps into the evenings and Dan starts rolling up his sleeves. Nobody mentions how neither of them seem to have been keen on birds and bees-in’ this year, not even the nosy town folk, although Darry suspects some threatenin’ looks from Katy have somethin’ to do with it. 

Wayne and Darry are takin’ advantage of the fact that they don’t have to wear a coat at sunset one evening, and using it to share a couple smokes, leaning back against the porch rail. 

Wayne looks out on the fields, the sky behind turning the smoke all shades of peach as he exhales. They’ve planted soybeans this year and goddamn are they coming up beautifully. “Fuck is that magnificent.” He says, almost as if to no one in particular.

Darry nods along anyway “Sure is a sight to see.” He allows himself a moment of pride for his handiwork as he sees bees buzzing around their freshly painted box at the corner of the field.

“You wanna know what?” Wayne says, taking another drag. “I don’t think I could ever live anywhere but here, couldn’t pay me to leave.”

As he leans down to drop his butt in the old folgers can, Darry glances up to see Wayne lookin out over what they’d built, the backdrop of golden light shining behind him. He smiles, “Yeah, it’s pretty hard to picture bein’ anywhere else right about now.” 

They smoke in a wonderfully warm silence for a minute before Wayne asks “You really mean it? You’ve never just had the urge to pack up and see what else is out there?”

Darry pauses to think. “Well, sometimes when it gets real cold I think about headin’ down south fer the winter, y’know like one of them snow birds, but I think I’d miss sleddin’ season too much to actually do it. And there was the time Annik asked me if I’d move to Quebec, but that’s about it I suppose.”

“Pump those brakes.”

“I’ll tap ‘em.”

“Annik asked you to move to Quebec?” Wayne’s glarin’ at him like he’s dropped his marbles down the well and possibly his left boot as well. “ Figured you would’ve jumped off a bridge if she was at the bottom. Why didn’t you go?”

“Hell of a commute from Quebec t’ here.”

“Darry.”

“Wayne,”

“I would’ve,” Wayne fiddles with his box of smokes, suddenly very interested in his boot laces. “I would’ve understood, if you’d gone.”

“I know you would’ve good buddy.” Darry kicks the dirt, lookin’ to the sky. The first few stars are dottin’ the sky like freckles. “We talked about it a few times, just didn’t seem like a fit. ‘n then we broke up a couple months later, so there ya have it.”

“Do you think you would’ve, if y’know, things hadn’t gone south?”

Darry shakes his head without hesitation. “Nah. Not really fer me, you know I fuckin’ hate Quebec, ‘sides…”

Wayne’s head snaps up “‘sides what?”

Now it’s Darry’s turn to look away. “Nothin’, it’s stupid, don’t worry about it.”

“Come on, spit it out.”

“You’ll make fun of me.”

“Likely. Look, ya can’t start to say somethin’ like that and then leave it danglin’ like a fish on the line, so pitter fuckin’ patter.”

Darry’s shoulders bunch up around his reddening ears. “I dunno,” he mumbles “guess I’d already decided I was gonna spend the rest of my life here with you.”

The news sends Wayne into a blinking fit. “Is that so…” he says slowly. “So you were just gonna stick with me forever?”

“As pert near as I could get to it anyway, yeah.”

“And how long’ve you had this plan?”

Darry rubs the back of his neck, as if trying to get the freckles off. “How long have we known each other?” He hopes the fading light will hide the dark blush creeping all over his face.

“Fuck, that’s a long time, ‘n so’s forever.” Wayne takes a long drag off his cigarette “How am I supposed to take that Dar?”

The indecipherable look on Wayne’s face has Darry’s brain screamin’ like a goat. He can see the gears turning but he can’t make out what conclusion they’re comin’ to. “Take it however you want I suppose,” He can hear himself sayin’ words he can’t seem to stop “How ever you want me.”

Wayne’s dart is under his boot faster than it takes Darry to bat an eye. Suddenly they’re a c-hair shy of bein’ chest to chest and Darry’s sure he’s about to get clocked.

To be fair, Wayne kisses like he throws a punch; fast, precise, and hard. It takes Darry a moment to realize its lips connecting with his face and not knuckles, but then it clicks and then his hands are bunching the front of Wayne’s shirt so tight he pops a snap open.

“And if I want you like that?” Wayne breathes, finally breaking.

Darry beams, pulling Wayne forward again, “Good fucking stuff.”


End file.
